


INVISIBLE

by gammaquarii



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Comedy, Consensual Sex, Dark Arts, Drama & Romance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Funny, Happy Ending, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Invisibility, Jealousy, Kinks, Love Confessions, Lucid Dreaming, Non-Consensual Touching, Porn With Plot, Post-War, Ratings: R, References to Drugs, Regency Romance, Romanticism, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smoking, Smut, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:53:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gammaquarii/pseuds/gammaquarii
Summary: ((The summary is INVISIBLE))***In this story: protagonist isn't a Beauty but a plain old girl all but innocent, the counterpart is Beast without final transformation also welcome to pot-smoking Snape, Mcgonagall and Dumbledore are two scheming monsters, there's gonna be period drama kinks, dark magic, horrible parents, and crazy hips activity***
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 9





	1. Where Minerva and Albus' conspiracy is an infamous bet

**Author's Note:**

> ***First fanfiction on AO3! Have a nice reading. Feel free to leave comments***

Many heads turned simultaneously at the sudden slamming door. From their place inside the hanged frames, the former headmasters of Hogwarts seemed all much surprised to see the current headmistress reaching the desk with great strides, grunting and sitting dramatically for what it looked like the worst day of the year. 

"Where. Is. Albus." 

She didnt even look at the portraits, a hand enclosed on the temples, voice squealed high and irritated. 

"We don't know, Minerva." a distinct man shook his baroque looking wig, touching nervously the white lacy collar. "You know already, Albus comes and Albus runs." 

"His seat is empty since this very morning and with my respect, ma'am, we are not his nannies." pointed out solemnly another headmaster. 

"C'mon Alistair, old stone! Don't thou see she is in need?" 

"We shall not treat her differently because she is a woman, McLaer, this what I think." 

"May I suggest one of us go on a search for Dumbledore?" 

"Not me, if I can help it. I'm rather busy." 

"Busy doing what, Alistair?" 

Minerva scrolled the head impatiently, urging everybody, and with a striking glance, to shut up. 

"He is never here when needed, never was never is." She commented vociferously, while fumbling with the teapot and a small steal box of oolong tea, "long story short." 

"I'm right here, Minerva, in fact." said the familiar firendly voice of Albus Dumbledore from his place on the wall, "right back to check on you." 

"Oh thanks Lord!" puffed some other portrait. 

Minerva Mcgonagall placed herself on the canapes at the fireplace facing Dumbledore, her silver hair reflected the golden lights of the flames. She took a long sip of her tea in a way to discourage any more ado, and the room became much quite in between. Finally she spoke. 

"We need to talk about Severus." 

Albus' white moustaches wrinkled as he expected precisely those words. 

"Like any other week." 

"Oh, he is impossible, Albus." 

"I see. Knowing that he causes you this much concern isn't good news, but also no news." 

"Precisely." Minerva looked down at her teacup with a small frown. 

"What did the boy this time?" Asked the former headmaster. Minerva raised her pupills dreadfully straight into his. 

"The 'boy' is insufferable like smallpox." 

A hushed laugh came from the wall of frames followed by a 'he is indeed', and 'remember when HE was headmaster?', and 'Who they are talking about, for God's sake?', and 'Snape, Alistair, that young bat!', and 'Of course I know him, who could possibly forget!' 

"Ah, things are going worse." Albus commented rather coldly than sadly. 

"Worse, yes. Even at his time as headmaster he was not so lunatic and obnoxious. His mood is terrible, his manners are terrible, his appearance is terrible. You should see the gloomy glances he casts on people with those eyes... oh, Albus, those eyes! There are already legends about him surviving Voldemort's basilisk because he is actually a vampire, and I start to believe it..." 

"That he is a vampire?" Dumbledore helped, rising both eyebrows. 

"That he became a monster after... you know... been rescued." 

He laughed almost subtly. 

"Nonsense, Minerva, you want to know how many times I survived from a deadly attack?" 

"But he is cold like a stone, and doesn't speak to anyone like he used to. Not that he was so that chatty before... Still. He's in constant bad temper, screams to students and colleagues any day. You know what he told me earlier, in the middle of a stupid argument? That he had to die that day... see?" Minerva's voice raised in pitch almost desperately, then she breathed out and regained her cool temper. 

"It is like..." 

"...like he doesn't enjoy to be alive." Albus ended her sentence. 

She looked at him with sincere concern on her normally sheltered eyes in a quiet act of agreement before going for another sip. 

"Well. He is just an old spinster!" said suddenly Albus after a pause, making her almost choke with her tea. "This was his problem since the dawn of time. He lacks love and, I'd say mostly, sex. A great sex. That which makes one faint in bliss, and..." 

"Can you please don't go further in descriptions, Albus?" interrupted her, alarmed and still coughing from before. 

"Oh, don't be prude, Minerva, you know what I'm talking about." 

"Yes, I know, but can you please..." 

"This is the cure. You wanted to know if he's a monster? He is not. You concern about his irredeemable depression? It is just a matter of hips activity..." and Albus mimed said activity so to break her in shock. 

"Albus!!" she almost screamed. "Are you suggesting that I..." 

"Good heavens, no! I mean you are a lovely woman Minerva but..." 

"Oh, stop this nonsense already." 

"I was about to say that he is not your type." 

"I don't see an actual solution to the problem" she cut it short. "It's easy to say he needs sex but how? Throwing him in a pit full of naked horny women?" 

"Brilliant!" Proclaimed Dumbledore. 

"You know him." she proceeded surprisingly, not dropping the matter. "It's not that I can go with a 'motivational speech' about his love life, at least if I don't want to end up cursed. Nor i can make him go on a 'blind date', he's too intelligent, would spot immediately my involvement..." 

A rustle of her robe as she started to walk the room in many directions, still thinking aloud. 

"He is a 39 year old man, better say "iceberg"... so rigid, so cold, so dark... I mean, what woman could possibily...? Any woman in their right mind would prefer to kiss a salamander than Severus..." 

"Have I ever found your humour so entertaining when I was alive?" Albus smirked but talked quietly to not interfere with her mind process. 

"I'm utterly serious." she responded, and went on "Of course he would spot Amortensia on her..." 

Here Dumbledore did completely let himself go in a loud laugh. 

"Mercy! There's no need to drug her! If it is the right woman she would fall for him, I tell you. And he won't help himself..." 

"Help himself?? But..." Mcgonagall shook her head. "This is again much nonsense, Albus. Just one word: how. We are magicians, not cupids." 

"Don't underestimate yourself, Mcgonagall, I think you're close to the solution." 

"I'm not close to a bloody thing." She finally sat down at the desk browsing the many papers on it, but looking rather shallow and unenthusiastic. "Now I've to examine these 1000 curricula for the chair of muggles studies. Hurray to me. I really hope I don't get a migraine..." 

"She could be one of those 1000" said Albus. 

"Who, prey tell?" 

"Severu's future sweetheart." 

Minerva's lips pursued to start a further question when she just froze and looked at Albus's painting intently. 

"This can't work." 

He simply smiled back at her. 

"All right, maybe it can." She said, "But it's extremely incorrect! I, the headmaster of an institution like Hogwarts, choosing someone for a teaching chair with such a premise! This is abominable! I can't, and, goodness, I do hope you couldn't as well... all of you!" 

She turned at the wall behind her and had the unpleasant confirmation of the truth just looking at the paninted yet animated faces. 

"Oh, well..." started a very old looking man, "of course we had to make exceptions, ma dame. All the time. It is not always a matter of correctness, that is, at the matter of fact, not incorrect at all." 

"I guess this is why for years Defence Against the Dark Arts chair was occupied by dorks." Minerva sighed but with a straight glance to Albus. 

"And now it's Severus's. Who is not a dork at all." he smirked innocently. 

"Don't tease me Albus. Giving Severus that chair was my idea, and I don't regret it, even if it is currently the most problematic course, for other reasons." 

"Yes. Because students have to learn Defense Against the Dark Teacher!!" commented loudly another portrait, bursting in laughs, which quickly scattered among the frames. 

Minerva ignored the joke still browsing the papers, now watching at some of the animated photos of the applicants with a renovated interest. Cheating for a job position? To find the perfect match for that nightmare of a man? She found herself quite intrigued by it, and surprisingly she gave that wicked idea a chance. After all, Severus went on her nerves so much that he deserved to be tricked a bit. And this could have ended with him be happy, so it was good. She decided not to think about the tragedy it could have eventually also been... 

"First and foremost" she started, taking a step back from the desk and pointing the wand at the applications "Are we totally sure we should go with females?" 

Dumbledore pursed his lips. 

"You ask me?" 

"I ask you for reasons." 

"Well. Then in my opinion, which is supported by your reasons, I'd say, yes, definitely. Female." 

Minerva rolled her eyes at the tone of the answer, and with a quick wave of the wand the papers shuffled frantically then divided in two distinct groups, one for male and one for female. 

"What about age?" asked Minerva. 

"Here is your opinion I'd pursue. We know that love is not a matter of age. But we have to choose one. What age do you think would be appropriate for Severus?" 

"Instinctively I wouldn't go with a 20 something, for i think she wouldn't be interested in him as a suitor, not saying being completely disgusted by the idea, neither a 40 something and over, cause they would definitely find him intolerable." 

"A woman on her 30s, then, single, unmarried..." 

"So be it." 

And another shuffling produced a small pile, this time, which placed at the centre of the desk. 

Another scrutinise and the pile reduced for the applicants being only single women. 

"Now... let's look?" Minerva smirked maliciously at the painting while coming close to it with the pile so for Albus to look as well. 

The women's list was correlated with a picture and an description of the candidates, including, in addition to achievements and attitude, many abstruse informations, like the elemental primal source of their magic, the zodiac chart, which for magicians referred to the whole galaxy, the type of blood, if pure, if muggle born, and the genealogy, the favourite type of beverage, the major or minor sensitivity to the sacrality of nature in the spectrum of Selenio da Orvieto, and much more. They weren't provided by a hand written questionnaire, but by a complex spell, which was impossible to cheat. 

Minerva and Albus went on for a decent two hours examining all the profiles. They quite agreed on rejecting the most of them. One was too Griffindorish, one too Hufflepaffish, one had Andromeda in dissonance with his Milky Way, another one name was "Christabelle"... 

"He would never date a Christabelle." 

"Definitely." 

"Also look at her chart, what a terrible Jupiter indeed. She likes labradors. Oh, this other one likes to go camping in the wild and this is indeed..." 

"...not compatible with a full time introvert cave bat dissecting corpses to extract ingredients for chemical experiments." ended Minerva with a small nod. "I think there's one left." 

"Oh!" The old man pondered accurately at the last paper looking rather interested "there she is, Minerva!" 

Minerva double checked the candidate Albus looked so enthusiast about. 

"This little sparrow here? C'mon. She looks like my poor aunt Elizabeth! Talking about hips activity probably Severus won't even notice her, he is a man after all, and she looks merely passable." 

"Have you ever seen a moon like that before?" Albus pointed at the paper, where a thin girl with dark hair and glasses smiled shyly from the picture, under that, the complex birthday chart showed an unconventional moon aspect. "With such a moon she has to be something. Don't judge by appearance, Minerva, you never know, that small sparrow can have a fire inside which can melt icebergs..." 

She frowned looking again at the picture. 

"You like her?" 

"She looks a bit like her mother, even her name sounds like his mother's, isn't it a coincidence? And she was a Slytherin, even housemate for a period being her 3 years younger than him... uhm. Interesting, do you remember her at Hogwarts? I don't." 

"Me neither." Said MacGongall matter-of-factly. "It means she had to be so mediocre to go completely unnoticed. And thinking about the type of girl Severus was into at that time, and I mean Lily Potter, you remember her, she was stunning..." 

"Yes, yes." 

Albus let a little silence to rest upon them as a disapproving Minerva babbled something like 'there have to be a reason if she is unmarried at her age'. 

"Dear Minerva. I propose you a bet." He said finally with a convincin grin. 

"A bet?" 

"If she conquers Severus heart by the end of the year, I'll pose naked. If it loses, you'll play the bagpipes in the courtyard." 

"ALBUS!" 

"But with the quilt!" 

"I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU NAKED." 

Minerva remained still in shock, but the idea of a bet was actually amusing, as long as having Dumbledore's jewls exposed during an interview in her office. 

"I look forward to listen to you bag piping, Minerva." He commented suppressing a giggle.


	2. Where we know professor Insipid Soup and her little owl

Sitting at the Hogwarts Express' compartment Evelyn Price couldn't have been more excited to look at the Scottish countryside, as foggy and rainy as it mostly was. Travelling to her old school to become a teacher, not of the most exciting study subject, but still a respectable well paid job, she was looking forward to begin. 

Most of all, this was an adventure. A change. Her life used be grey as the endless clouds in front of her, God knew how much she craved a chance away from all the things that didn't go right. Her eyes narrowed as she indulged in that thick fog that were her memories. 

But now. Now it was time to look forward. 

The lady with the food cart came and Evelyn opened a big Mary-Poppins-bag letting the brown head of a little owl to pop up, looking curious and hungry already. The cart lady laughed at that sight. 

"Oh, he is so cute!" 

"It's a she... Hatshepsut is her name. And I think she smelled peanuts from that cart. She goes crazy for peanuts." Smiled Evelyn. 

"A bag of peanuts then!" The lady took a small paper bag, "is it your last year at the school, my dear?" 

"What..." Evelyn stared at her for a moment then burst in a loud laugh that made Hatshepsut shiver. "Oh but I'm not a student. I'm a teacher, a new one actually. I'm 36 years old." 

Her counterpart widened her eyes. 

"36 years old, as I lived and breath!" 

Evelyn was used to that shock, but she didn't expect to pass for a student at her age. She had a juvenile appearance, being petite, lacking of make-up almost completely, and having expressive bright eyes under small oval silver framed glasses. 

Alone again, she let Hatshepsut on her shoulder as she brought her some peanuts with an opened hand. 

"Do I really look that young, Hatshee? Nah, she is used to youngsters, she didn't pay much attention to me that's all." 

Hatshee let a small "koo koo koo" in response. 

"Precisely. So what you think about the Highlands?" She pointed outside the window as the little owl followed her finger with the beak, mumbling a "koo koo". 

"Romantic indeed. The hills in the morning, the freezing moor, the castles..." she smirked maliciously "...maybe there's an Heatcliff right out there." 

"Kya" 

The door opened and a tall blonde girl came in followed by another girl and a guy. They looked all 17 and well groomed. 

"Cool owl." The blonde said with a grin taking a seat. "So, as the voice is spreading in the train, we are here to welcome the new teacher... And we suppose Muggles Study is the subject." 

"It's nice by you!" Evelyn turned at them enthusiastically. "You suppose right. I'm the new Muggle Study teacher. My name is Evelyn Price. Which house are you?" 

"Slytherin." Said the boy showing lazily but matter-of-factly his green scarf. 

"Oh, I was a Slytherin too!" 

"You don't say..." the girl still grinned but a bit more forcibly, then glanced quickly at her colleagues. 

"We are honoured, professor Price. The Hogwarts Students Welcoming Committee is glad to inform you that this year there's going to be a small welcoming party set by headmistress Mcgonagall in the field right under the owlery." 

Evelyn was quite surprised at that solemn invitation. 

"Oh, well... I guessed things have changed a lot from the last time I was a student... All the strict ceremonials... we didn't have welcoming parties under the stars." She replied awkwardly pointing at the rainstorm outside. 

"Yes. Precisely, professor. Things are much changed after the war. Headmistress is for a more easygoing school experience." 

Evelyn eyes darkened. "Understandable. It must have been hell... what you've being through." 

The girl suddenly stood up, as long as the others. 

"Yes, well. See you later professor." She said making way for her peers outside the compartment. Then turned to her and smiled adorably, "And welcome to Hogwarts." 

As Evelyn reached for Hogwarts, last after a long row of students, she felt a good shiver of excitement, partly given by the cold wind which blew from the lake. The castle was as beautiful as she remembered: imposing, hunted, utterly romantic. 

"Kya kya" protested Hatshee on her shoulder as she went for a little path around the first tower on the left, instead of going inside. 

"No. It's this way, Hatshee. Remember the party? I don't want to be late to my first appointment. Don't worry, I still remember everything... this walk as a breathtaking view of the lake." 

The sunset was colouring a portion of both sky and lake with its last warm shades as menacing clouds run quickly carried by the wind. Her coat and long skirt moved simultaneously as she took a moment in the cold to watch the landscape. Hatshee pecked gently at her hair to bring her back from that old fashioned fantasy, looking quite alarmed and uncomfortable. 

"It's alright, I move, I move." 

But the walk to the owlery seemed never ending. Darkness, wind and a couple of thunders didn't promise good. 

"Should be here." Proclaimed Evelyn tirelessly looking around at the owlery basement. But she was just surrounded by void. 

"Maybe the girl mistook the place for another, let's go on, we will find them eventually..." 

Evelyn walked further until she started to feel a bit lost in time and space and rather unhappy of the situation. Darkness made all towers to look the same, and she couldn't tell how much time passed as she started to venture on Hogwarts grounds. Then a sudden bright light followed by a loud rumble and pouring rain gave her enough of that quest. 

"We have to go back!" Screamed protecting the little owl under her coat. 

"Here must be a passage for the inside. If I remember correctly, in this part of the field there might be..." 

A rustle followed by a clean shot. Heavy branches were twisting over her head, a whip hit her right at her middle back making her staggering. 

"...The whomping willow..." 

Hatshee flew out of her coat as another whip beat her mistress. 

"Please. I didn't want to disturb..." Evelyn screamed as she tried to escape a series of leafy shots. 

She fell on the ground, and was about to reach for her wand, when she heard a voice almost as loud as the thunder. 

In that precise moment the tree stopped with his rage. Yet another rage burst, and quite worse... 

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE YOU LITTLE FOOL!?" 

Evelyn looked for who talked to her as she stood up: a tall black figure was all she could see, her glasses being wet and maybe even broken. 

"I... they told me to come here..." 

"OUT FROM THE TREE'S RANGE." he commanded, and ungracefully pulled her by the harm. His grip was quite strong. She couldn't still see him as he spoke again. 

"Which house are you?" 

They stood for a brief moment close to the wall of the castle, protected from the rain. Evelyn tried to catch her breath, but instead started to shake from adrenaline and the cold. 

"...A-a student." 

"WHAT?" Shouted angrily the man. 

"I-I'm not a student." 

The tall figure seemed to examine her from head to toe at that statement. 

"Professor Price." He finally said, unenthusiastically. 

"It's me." Evelyn responded, same tone. 

"Follow me." He ordered and she tried to keep his pace as he walked fastly inside a courtyard then unlocked a door, but did not enter it. 

"Come inside and reach for the hall. I guess you know the way." 

"Yes. Thanks... I thought... I mean they told me to go to the owlery tower..." 

"I don't want to know anything about it!" Cut rudely the man, "you'll discuss the circumstances of this prank with the headmistress. Goodnight." 

"You don't come inside?" 

He didn't answer and just disappeared in the courtyard, back from where they came, the light of the thunders hitting his large yet slender back covered by the mantel. 

Evelyn walked in and immediately made some spells to feel better. She firstly dried her clothing, warmed herself a little bit and finally she took a small vial from her purse, which instantly calmed the pain she felt at the back and relieved her tensed nerves. She had no doubts Hatshee was safe somewhere: after all she wasn't a stupid human falling in a stupid prank at her first day... 

"She tried to warn me." she mumbled at herself, patting her skirt to remove the dust. "Oh, Evelyn. Back to the usual routine!" But she knew she probably looked awful anyway so she just proceeded for the hall, her purse under the arm. 

While walking through the corridors Evelyne had time to settle down and think about what just happened to her. A prank it was, indeed. A bit cruel by those guys fooling a new teacher that way... didn't they care about punishments? And who was her dark saviour? Maybe the new goundskeeper... Maybe Hagrid retired, or he got a promotion. She knew absolutely nothing about Hogwarts as she lived far way from England (and from the magic world) for years. She smiled a bit thinking that the start of her new life looked quite like the beginning of a gothic 19th century novel: a lonely walk at the ground of a black castle, being assaulted by a tree in the middle of a storm (not actually something the Brontë sisters would have written), and that mysterious terrible rescuer. Just a couple of hours ago she wondered about finding Heatcliff and there he was! 

She took a deep breath before entering the hall, knowing that she would get the attention of a large part of people doing such an entrance. And she hated having all eyes on her. She always did... 

...but she wasn't prepared for the actual challenge. All eyes were really on her as she walked down the long way between the student's tables till the teacher's table at the head of the the hall. Evelyne trembled in her core as silence followed her pace. She could have stood up against an army of enraged trees, but that catwalk was her true nightmare! 

She heard a small laugh and she was under the impression that it came from a blonde head at her left. 

Trying not to sink in embarrassment, Evelyn found her seat at the teacher's table right after old Pomona Sprout. She smiled gently at her former Erbology professor, then looked down until Headmistress Mcgonagall started speaking loudly. 

"Now that all the teachers are present, it's finally time to introduce the teaching staff to the new students. Beginning from Professor Flitwick, charms. Professor Sprout, Erbology. Professor Price, Muggle Studies..." 

Evelyn smiled awkwardly and made a small nod. Mcgonagall, whose hair was much silver now, looked as strict as she remembered. 

"...Professor Berry, potions, and Professor Snape, Defence Against the Dark Arts." 

Evelyn eyes rose. 

Did she hear right? Snape? Could he be... 

She blushed uncontrollably as she spotted the man at the other side of the table. Yes. That was indeed Severus Snape, he even didn't look much different from the last time she has seen him... 20 years before! The same long black hair, the same prominent nose and sharp cheekbone over hollow pale cheeks, the same straight posture, like a prince of darkness... The difference was mostly in the eyes, they were darkened by black straight eyebrows frowned despicably over them, a fierce upset look in those pupils, and dark halos around them as someone who doesn't sleep well from ages. 

More also, his silhouette matched the one of the man she encountered on the grounds, that Heatcliff guy. She almost had no doubts about him being the same man. She could sense it. 

As she couldn't stop her eyes to wonder over his features, she felt a pleasant sensation building up in her lower body, worming her face and accelerating her heart pace: then she perfectly remembered how ridiculously in love she was with him, as a teenager.


	3. Where three Slytherin students don't get punished

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Leave lovely comments tnks***

As the sorting ceremony was dismissed and the hymn of Hogwarts sung (a tradition Mcgonagall kept to honor Albus who was fond of it), the crowd started to leave the hall. Minerva didn't miss Evelyne's pupils following Severus on his feet to lead Slytherin students out of the hall. Her hawk-eyes registered every single emotion on the face of the young woman during the whole banquet. 

"Professor Price, may I have a word with you in my office?" She asked approaching her. "If you are not too eager for a restful sleep..." 

"Oh. Of course professor. I mean Headminstress. I was expecting the invitation, for what happened in the grounds..." 

"The reason of your delay, yes, I've been informed..." she talked while walking fastly to the little tower, followed by her. "A nasty prank by some irresponsible children. I'm sorry for this occurrence, I hope you've not being injured by the whomping willow..." 

"Not much. Excuse me, who did inform you?" 

"Professor Snape, of course." She said calmly. "He noticed your delay and went to search for you." 

"Does.." Evelyn stuttered, "does Severus remember about me?" 

"Possibly." Once inside the office, Minerva invited her to take a seat at one of the canapes at the fireplace. 

"So. Finally. Here you are!" She proclaimed, smiling in a way she wasn't too used to. "Back at Hogwarts." 

"After 20 years. Almost. Oh, that's professor Dumbledore..." Evelyne pointed at the portrait right in front of her and Albus, strangely present for once, bowed his head a little. 

"Good evening miss Price, and welcome back." 

Miss Price smirked at him and Minerva could witness that smiling made her face look rather adorable. At least. 

"So. Tell me about the students who approached you in the train? Which house they were?" 

"Well, but it's all right. It was just an innocent joke. I don't see the need to a punishm..." 

"I decide the punishments here, miss Price." 

"Of course, headmistress." Affirmed Evelyn twisting her hands on her lap. She wore a big old cardigan that make her chest look completely flat, a long A frame tartan skirt and a pair of galoshes. Right out of a farm in the Highlands, thought Minerva rising subtly an eyebrow. Her hair, although pulled up in a messy bun, were at least thick and dark brown. 

Evelyn continued. "They were three Slytherin students. A tall blonde girl..." 

"Miss Addington. And I guess the other were a girl with a short black bob and a freckled boy. Miss Chatahm and mr Paxton." 

"Yes." 

"I'll notify immediately professor Snape to take them to my office." 

Evelyn blushed. 

"Oh... disturbing him for so little." 

"Not really. You have being put in danger miss Price. And he is responsible for his students." 

A small message was written and delivered as miss Price continued to talk about her experiences during that day; not so long after, professor Snape and the three students entered the office, interrupting her. 

"Chatham, Paxton, Addington." Began Minerva, "you incredibly disappoint me. The prank you played to our new teacher was anything but innocent. She couldn't find an access for the castle in the storm, and stumbled upon the whomping willow. If not for professor Snape, she could have been severely injured. Things like this shall never, and underline NEVER, happen again. Now, apologize with professor Price." 

The three apologized looking quite mortified. Professor Snape placed himself in front of them, towering in the middle of the room. 

"I'll be sure they get what they deserve for their utter stupidity." He grunted, his jaw clenched. Evelyne gasped a bit. 

"No way, Severus." interrupted Mcgonagall, "I'm sorry but this time I want to deal with them personally. You three follow me in the other room, I want to have some words with you in private..." 

Minerva took the guys in the small library-laboratory leaving strategically Snape and Price alone. 

"Very well." She whispered after locking the door with an excited grin, a totally different light in her eyes this time. 

"You promised us we won't get punished." Protested softly the blonde girl. 

"Doubt your headmistress, miss Addington?You won't. But you have to pretend you will. It is fundamental...And don't make a word with anybody about it. Is that understood?" 

Minerva re opened the door after a minute and for sure she didn't expect the two having a conversation, they were awkwardly silent in fact, but Severus at least was still there and he didn't look quite the beast he could have been. 

"Come back to your dormitory" she ordered to the student group. "Your families are going to be notify tomorrow. Professor Snape, please don't go with them, I've something to ask you." 

He stood still but impatiently. 

"What?" He grunted. 

"I'd like you to accompany professor Price to her room." 

He let an heavy sigh and massaged briefly at the bridge of the nose. 

"Where is her room, pray tell?" 

"In the east wing." 

"And can't she find it alone?" 

Minerva forced a small but sharp grin to him. Insufferable man. 

"Please." she said. 

He finally accomplished as Evelyne timidly followed him out of the office. Alone, the headmistress crossed arms over her chest, "The vulture and the sparrow." commented. 

"Diabolical!" Said the familiar voice at her back. 

"Pardon?" 

"Minerva, I'm impressed! You orchestrated all this, the prank, the encounter, and now the departure. I wouldn't have done better!"  
Mcgonnagal giggled a little as she went for the liqueurs cabin taking an empty glass and a bottle of fine scotch. 

"Then you don't know me at all, Albus. All's fair in war and love. Cheers." 

"But you didn't plan the whomping willow incident, did you?" 

Minerva took a good sip from his shot. 

"Of course not. This was the unpredictable spice. I told Severus to go to search for her but..." and she started to laugh almost uncontrollably "...even better, he saved her. Can you believe it?" 

Dumbledore looked rather amused as well. 

"Ah, you women..." 

"So what you think of her?" she asked merrily sitting in her armchair and going for another shot. 

"Oh, she is beyond perfection!" 

"Seriously?" 

"It's probably because I'm a man that I better understand women's charm Minerva. Or I know Severus too well to know precisely what it can break him." 

"If you know so many secrets already..." Minerva raised an eyebrow to him. 

"But, dear headminstress, you said it yourself. Unpredictable spice. That what she is and that's what he needs." 

"So it is her... unpredictability... the secret ingredient?" 

She didn't look quite convinced, maybe because she couldn't yet visualise miss Price as "spicy".


	4. Where apparently professor Heatcliff was once a skilled & hot student

Evelyne was again walking after Severus Snape that evening. It was immensely odd, not to say merely credible, and she couldn't help but feel the amazement of a magical spell. Her romantic nature couldn't send her farer from the void reality represented by the man in front of her. 

She fastened her pace to be at his side. 

"Would you promise me not to be too harsh with your students?" It was indeed a risky question. 

"Why would you ask me such a thing?" He replied after interminable seconds of silence. 

"Well. I've seen you're upset with them. And I understand! If they were under my responsibility I would feel the same." 

Severus rolled his eyes slightly. 

"Yes... what do you want to say, professor Price?" 

Questioning making the answer to sound completely irrelevant was one of Snape's peculiar trait. 

"That I'm absolutely not resentful about what happened. No. Actually, I'm rather happy..." said Evelyne. 

Another awkward silence followed before she went on. 

"...Because if they didn't tell me to go to the owlery I wouldn't have seen such an incredibly beautiful sunset on the lake." 

Severus let out a small dry caught. 

"I didn't remember it from my school days. Maybe because I didn't enjoy these type of things, back then, or I simply took them for granted. Or I'm just a different person now. It's the passage at the side of the castle, where the view is so breathtaking..." 

"I know that passage." 

Evelyne smiled even more. "Yes! And it was like a William Turner painting... all those menacing black clouds running over the last strays..." 

"Those clouds should have dissuaded you to proceed in the park." He didn't look at her not a single time but Evelyne was enjoying his company anyway. 

"Indeed!" She laughed, "it was terribly naive by me, I mean, you would have thought the joke was predictable, wouldn't you?" 

Severus seemed to slow a bit his pace, while still looking the least man to engage in a conversation. "In the whole history of Hogwarts never occurred something like a welcoming party outside the school. I guess. Enough to put anybody in alert." 

"But me!" She giggled not even bothered by his tone. 

"This is your room. I suppose." He said finally stopping himself at the entrance. Evelyne looked at him gently yet shyly. 

"Sorry, for this had hassled you, taking me here. And thank you... to come to rescue me, Severus." 

The tall and lanky man frowned, like he didn't expect to be called by his name. 

"Yes, well... goodnight." He grunted. 

"We were in Slytherin house together." Almost screamed miss Price, as he was leaving her with great strides. He turned on his heels facing her. "I'm 3 years younger than you. D-do you remember me? Maybe... Well..." 

Evelyn's heartbeats started to race. "You... even helped me doing a potion, once... E-essence of dittany. I remember it like it was yesterday." She sniggered nervously. 

His long legs went back to her in a few steps.  
Then he stared at her intently, scanning her features, strange shadows dancing in his rosin black eyes. It was more like he was observing a ghost rather than a human being, for there was a hint of dread in his look, mixed with annoyance and curiosity. What a strange way to behave, thought Evelyne, who felt completely exposed under his eyes, but held his gaze while her heart beat furiously in her throat. Those pupils did still that effect on her and she couldn't help a voluptuous feeling to jolt through her body. There she was, back a teenager, crushing on Severus Snape. She fluttered her eyelashes without even thinking, not knowing if she could bare that intensity any longer. Then he spoke.

"I don't remember." 

And left. 

Panting, rollercoasting, Evelyne flew inside the room. 

She shut the door and just leaned in darkness for a moment covering her face with both palms. Her cheeks felt warm and fingers a bit sweaty. 

Oh, God, did it happen for real? She could see the Brontë sisters nodding approvingly at that insanity. Evelyne laughed without even trying to pull herself together. And yes, he said he didn't remember about her, that stung a bit, but actually, who does ever remember about her? 

Moving at the rhythm of the butterflies in her stomach she started to light the room and the fireplace. And, what a lovely place it was! Not that she expected to sleep in a cell, though. It was small but cozy, with two distinct spaces marked by a gap in the floor. A few steps on the left led to a raised space where there was a great bed completed with curtains and a tiny door to the bathroom. The space under it was occupied with a stony fireplace, a comfy armchair, a small table with a teapot, a large table or a desk close to a small bookcase and a overly cute renaissance style bay window with fitting pillows. The uneveness of the floor plant and of the height of the ceiling, the walls forming angles at more than 90°, the antique furniture, and especially the strange gargoylish decorations sculpted over the chimney made her instantly in love. 

She sat at the window. Looking outside she could see the clear sky now free from clouds and a vast dark creeping shadow under it. The forest, she thought, a view of the forest! Couldn't it be less perfect? She opened the window making a distinct "koo koo koo" call a couple of time, and Hatshepsut flew right in. She grabbed her arm swelling his plumage in concern. 

"Yes. I know you were worried. I'm so sorry. It was very bad. But you'll remember not to fly too close to that tree now, at least!" 

Hatshee let a small "kya-oh" to say that SHE had to remember it, not her. 

"Look at this Hatsh! Our new place! I utterly adore it already." Evelyne placed the little owl at the armrest and let herself go on the one big chair. 

"And... did you see Heatcliff?" she giggled. "Oh Hatshee, I don't believe in coincidences, but this has to be one. He's Snape. That bleak boy... I was just 15 and he 18. I never talked to him, a part from once. I guess he didn't even notice me. But you know me, during school years... it was yet impossible to notice me." She looked at the little owl with an complice gaze. "And I was sure he had a girlfriend, a too pretty red-head girl, really too pretty. I would have never competed." 

She took a blanket and put it on. The warmth of the fire was making her drowzy, though she didn't know what time it was. 

"I was jealous for a consistent year. He looked at her in a way that made me literally burn. But she seemed not so much into him. Then I knew they split. Oh well, Severus was vexed by some Griffindors douches, but after they split, it went better for him. The last year at Hogwarts he was just a different person, less of a doormat, more grounded. He had become very tall and gained kind of a noble posture, I think he was rather confident of being a genius. He wore black jumpers instead of the school robe which made his shoulders look broad and his back sexy... and I was completely lost." 

Evelyne closed her eyes. 

"Then he helped me with that potion..." 

And she visualized him back then. Tall, black, slender, amazingly intelligent. His sharp features and pale complexion underlined by ravenous long hair. She could yet remember every detail of that day, and for reasons. She was in the laboratory trying to accomplish the potion task but somehow she continued to fail and at the twelfth attempt she was about to burst in tears. 

"What's wrong?" said a nice male voice at her back. It was him, wearing a brownish apron, his hair tight back in a short tail, some dreadlocks under his ears. 

"I-it's your time to practice, I should leave..." she had said. 

"No worries. Usually at this time there's nobody around here, it's why I come this late. That dittany needs to be improved." 

He told that while turning his back to her washing his hands in the sink. How could he spot the problem in her potion for the little glance he did at the cauldron? 

"Yes... i failed at it twelve times."  
"Twelve?" 

Should she have told him how many tentatives she had done for real, to look even more pathetic? 

"It isn't so difficult." He said simply as he came close to her and leaned forward over the cauldron, pressing one hand on the table. 

"Smells of burning. The fire is too high." 

"The book says the temperature has to be medium." 

"No." He just declared. 

She didn't want to contradict him, also she was totally sure he was right. But she was so curious and attracted by his absolute confidence that she had to ask. 

"Why are you so sure?" 

"Well, for instance I did this same assignment two years ago and scored excellent." He smirked at her and Evelyne went red. 

"So. Would you like to re-do it with me? It looks like the problem is in some passages, more than the temperature." 

Evelyne murmured an alright, and proceeded to clear the working place. Regained all the ingredients, while he just watched her. She was starting to think that it was a bad decision as she started to brew the potion. Having him at her side was just enough to cause her a stroke, but having to do a complex potion in front of him while being completely insane by hormones was a torture. 

Her hands started to shake and measuring the drops became challenging. 

"Careful with that. If you shake so much you can't see how many drops it goes." 

Yeah, precisely the problem! 

"Give me the pipe." And he placed himself at her back as he took the pipe from her, his fingers just gently brushed against her. She stared at his beautiful firm hand like an idiot, as he methodically poured a few drops on the cauldron. 

"So far so good." He said, softly. "But don't forget to breath..." 

Was he conscious to be that hot? That what Evelyne thought at that moment and distracted she took the long silver mixing tool and started to stir the potion like a stew. 

"No no no! Don't!" He grabbed her hand blocking the foolish action. 

"This is absolutely not the case with dittany. And I'm sure that the book recommend it too." 

"I'm... I'm sorry." She stuttered. 

He came closer, and leaned over her as he began to move his hand with hers. 

"It has to be done slow... this way." 

She melted completely, her hand boneless inside his one. 

"There... just like that." 

Her lips parted, her conscious mind fading away little by little, she just hoped he stopped, but he didn't, on the contrary, he closed the gap between their two bodies, probably without realising it. His low abdomen pressed subtly against her hips. 

Severus had a lean build and any slight bulge on his body was clearly visible. She had looked at his crotch before, but now there it was, right pressed over her buttock. And yes, she felt it. It was soft but... present. And supple. Was he a little bit hard? Just the thought of him having an erection in that moment made her lose control. Rushes of pleasure built quickly in her, she melted possibly more, feeling wet and hot as a series of small emotional orgasms took her over the edge. 

"It should be enough." He left her hand and took the cauldron out of the fire. "Want to test it?" 

Evelyne look at him still in bliss. 

"Ho-how? Nobody is injured here." 

He was quick. Took a knife, rolled up his sleeve and cut the soft pale skin of his forearm. 

"NO!!" She screamed jumping from arousal to panic. 

"Now. Heal me." He said. 

Damn, if he was sexy. 

Evelyn awkwardly took some potion with the pipe hoping it wasn't too hot, coming closer to his bleeding arm. And trying hard not to shake she let the drops fall on his cut, which produced froth and bubbles as the skin closed leaving a small reddish sign. 

"Don't worry it will disappear." 

A dreadful thought came suddenly to her mind. "Do you... always test potions on yourself?" She almost whispered. 

"Not always but when I can I do. It's fascinating isn't it? Venoms and antidotes are the more exciting." He smirked, a dark captivating light shining through his black pupils. 

"But... aren't you afraid?" 

"Never. If it's me doing the potion. Never." 

In that moment the door opened and Avery, another last year Slytherin, popped in breaking the enchantment. 

"Snape. There you are. The others want to know if you join us tonight..." he glanced quickly at her. "...for the study group." 

Severus undid his apron and his hair as he moved to the door. 

"Didn't I say already that I was busy studying on my own?" 

Those were his last words before departing with his peer, leaving her in a tangle of emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Warning: for NO reason the cut Severus does on his forearm has to be seen as pro self-harming or self-harming justification, they are very different things, he likes to test on himself the effects of potions, but later in his life will also judge himself as inconsiderate and extreme.***


	5. Where professor Beast crushes on professor Beauty

"Goodmorning professor!" 

On the way for breakfast Evelyne received a note from Mcgonagall to wait for her in the hall. In a couple of hours she would have attended her first Muggle Studies lesson and with all that happened the day before she was feeling gleeful. 

"Morning dear!... oh, just call me Pomona. And I can call you...?" 

"Evelyne!" 

The witch next to her smiled gently. 

"Evelyne! Lovely. I had a great-grandmother called that way. No way. She was the mother of my great-grandfather by my grandmother side, so my great-great-grandmother... Oh well never mind." 

Evelyne examined the table half empty from teachers. Severus was not there. 

"Here's coffee. Here's tea." Said Sprout, "and as you can see there's a quantity of cakes." 

"I'll have porridge if there's any." 

"Porridge! Mercy, now you do sound like my great-great-grandmother. Well, not that I dislike porridge. Oats have incredible benefits, what a wonderful plant." 

"It is!" Grinned Evelyne taking a bunch of almonds and berry jelly for her cinnamon porridge. "So where are the other professors?" 

"Oh they usually come here earlier. A part from Snape, he almost never has breakfast." 

"Uhm. A bad habit." 

Pomona sighed going for another cup of tea. 

"He is full of bad habits, if I may." 

Evelyne raised her eyebrows quite intrigued. Chat with the stuff was already on the way for shameless gossip. 

"Is he? He helped me yesterday. Was nice by him. He may not seem the nicest man but I don't think he's bad." 

"Oh no, dear, bad he is not! He is actually an hero..." 

She almost dropped the spoon. Her eyes big and eager to know more. 

"Goodness. Don't you know the story?? He conspired to destroy Voldemort. He was a spy for Dumbledore and almost died to save Potter's life and to protect all of us. But after the second war he... well, I shouldn't talk about him knowing what he has been through." 

"What do you mean, Pomona? What happened to him?" 

Sprout didn't look too happy to deliver these kind of informations, but after all she herself provoked the young woman's curiosity. 

"He kind of changed after being brought back to life. They have been said it is Post Traumatic Stress something..." 

"Disorder..." Evelyn helped. Pomona mumbled a 'ha-a' with a sad grin. 

"He's not the same he used to be. Well. He was always a bit lunatic and antisocial, but he wasn't unfriendly. He's harsh, like very harsh, sometimes even out of his mind. Minerva said it is because of depression." 

He is depressed, Evelyne thought glancing at the empty chair in front of her. And what about his story, what a story! Being a spy, sacrificing himself for Harry Potter... Potter... like James Potter. Yes, she knew him, Griffindor, head of the school, he was Severus tormentor for a long time. He and that other one Griffindor, the tall one. And the red-head, Severus's former girlfriend, became his fiancee, meaning that... 

"Pomona" started Evelyn suddenly, "Is the boy Severus saved the son of James Potter?" 

"Yes, dear. Precisely. And her mother was Lily Evans, very skilled in Erbology." 

LILY! Thought Evelyne. That was her name. Her memory then recalled everything: as she walked in the corridors with the Potter guy flirting with her insistently. She looked so confident and how else could have been? Tall, gorgeous, nice curves, beautiful emerald eyes, the portrait of a mermaid. No wonder she made Severus' head spin... The fiery gazes he let on her. Those she remembered still painfully. She would have given anything to be looked at at the same way. Yet, Lily didn't reciprocate not even half of his fondness. Evelyn let a small sigh thinking that life is indeed cruel giving a heart for passion to people with zero charm, and to those with charm a piece of ice. 

But she swallowed those emotions, going back to the realization. Severus Snape saved the life of Lily's son! But why? Where was Lily now? Then again she remembered that Harry Potter was an orphan, his parents killed by Voldemort. And there she connected all the dots. Severus might have loved Lily so much to sacrifice himself for Harry. As long as this made her abdomen shrink, she felt a bit guilty for calling her the "blessed" one. Lily wasn't lucky at all. 

With her mind heavy by considerations and reconstructions, Evelyn waited for the headminstress to give her her timetable. 

"Good luck with your first lesson, professor Price. Remember. Keep your head high... no, no... a bit more. Up. Up!" 

Evelyn did her best to satisfy Minerva, raising her chin, straightening her back, and giggling embarrassed. Her posture was way worse than she realized, all because of her natural shyness. And at 36 she wasn't hopeful for improvements. 

"I'll lead you to your classroom" said Minerva with her proud walk "It changed position after the war, and it's good to jog a bit in the morning." 

As Evelyne strolled at her side in the corridors she inhaled deeply and forced a little smile on her face. A little "magic" she did every so often: always remember to smile to feel strong. However her lips went straight immediately as she heard screaming furiously. 

The screams increased as they approached Defence Against the Dark Arts class. 

Minerva rolled her eyes dramatically. "Here we go again." Breathed. 

He was so loud and so clear in his pronounce to do envy to stage actors. 

"DO YOU THINK YOU CAN FOOL ME?? DO YOU THINK THAT I. DON'T. SEE. THE. DIFFERENCE?? THIS POTION IS SO WRONG THAT IT CAUSES CURSES. NOT CURE THEM. WHO POSSIBLY TAUGHT YOU TO MAKE IT THIS WRONG??" 

Silence. 

"WELL PROFESSOR BERRY CAN SAY THAT THESE BUNCH OF BONES ARE VIOLETS. I'M TIRED OF YOUR INCAPACITY. IF YOU CAN'T BREW THIS POTION CORRECTLY YOU'LL BE ALL OUT OF MY CLASS BEFORE CHRISTMAS." 

Another silence. 

"DETENTION MISTER FOSTER!" 

Noises of rumble, then thuds, a few heavy steps and the door swung open showing a very messed up professor Snape dragging a boy by the arm. 

He went directly for Minerva like he was expecting to find her there. 

"I WON'T TOLERATE THIS ANY LONGER." 

"Let go of his arm." 

Severus panted like a horned animal ready to strike yet he retained himself, staring furiously at the headminstress. She was a statue. 

"Let him go. Now." 

Severus reluctantly did it and the boy massaged his arm. He did hurt him, thought Evelyne. She remembered how strong was his grip on her own arm the evening before. 

"Come back inside Forster." Commanded Minerva, voice like a whisper, while holding Severus gaze. 

As he entered she shut the door with a movement of her hand. 

"Are you completely gone out of your mind Severus?" 

"Are you the headminstress of a school whose scholars are completely unprepared?" 

"That's not true." 

"If you aren't able to see the incapacity of professor Berry in teaching potions then I don't know what to think of you Minerva!" 

"Severus you can't teach potions too, we already talked about it, you have to let others do their job, professor Berry works differently than you..." 

"PROFESSOR BERRY IS AS CAPABLE AS LOCKHART." He shouted harshly. "I'M GOING TO TELL HIM A COUPLE OF THINGS.." 

"No. Please Severus. Not again. Please!" 

But he didn't listen to her as he marched at his right, eyes pointing too high to properly check if the road was free. It wasn't. Evelyne stood right in the middle and wasn't quick enough to get out of his way. He crashed on her. 

She staggered backwards trying not to lose balance. Her purse and papers fell on the ground and her glasses slid to one side. Massaging her nose, rather confused than harmed she looked up at him. He stared angrily at her, his face red with swollen veins and enlarged nostrils, his chest moving up and down for his fast breathing, still, Evelyne didn't look scared, full of reproach or angry herself: her eyes rather shined... an oddity that seemed to impress him. His features softened a bit going from anger to confusion. 

"See what you've done now?" Started Minerva sounding more like his grandma. "You had punched miss Price, and this is her first day!" 

One second later Severus mumbled an "I beg your pardon." Then grabbed steadily on her shoulders and moved her at one side, and just walked away. Very fast. 

Evelyne stood in shock, her blue eyes still following his dark cloak in the corridor, slowly minding about what just happened. He didn't notice her when he came out and just did it when he stamped his body onto hers. Then he looked confused and annoyed, as he didn't seem too happy to have a witness of his madness. And the grab at the shoulder. Evelyne placed her hands instinctively at the same spots he did some moments before. 

"This is our routine." Sighed Minerva, "I'm terribly sorry, miss Price. Severus Snape has... a hard time behaving." 

"Pomona told me about the war." 

"Oh, so you know the story already. It is indeed very sad, and the only reason we all tolerate him. Some says it is the post effects of the trauma. For others he was just very lonely for too long..." 

"Was he?" Evelyne almost whispered. 

Those words echoed inside of her. 

Mcgonagall left her to deal with the inevitable mess of her colleague and the eventually very complainant professor Berry. Muggles Study classroom was at the end of the corridor and Evelyne noticed that everything she needed for teaching was there. She placed the small generator of electricity on the desk ready for the lesson, however the group of students which came in look merely interested. She quickly realized that they were sad on their own, not because of her. 

"I guess electricity is a bit too complicated for a first lesson." She said, hoping that they would open up. 

"No, professor..." intervened a girl with the smallest voice possible "it's just... we are worried because of p-professor Snape. Worried to not pass his exams..." 

Understood. In front of her sat the former Defence Against the Dark Arts class, as confirmed by the presence of a frowned mr Foster. 

Evelyne walked in between them. How to encourage them? 

"Listen. Surving the Dark Arts is probably the hardest test for a witch or a wizard. I guess professor Snape care that all of you are able to protect yourself properly from any curses. He had to deal with one of the most dangerous dark wizard of history, and he knows what it means to fight for what... what we care." 

Again a sour feeling stung her. She quickly reached for her bag. 

"Now, let's have some fun. I'll show you one item and you'll guess what is its usage in muggle world. Ready?" 

The first object couldn't be other then a rubber duck.


	6. Where Price gets almost intoxicated by Snape's pot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***warnings: DRUGS***

The clock of the tower struck six. Professor Price decided to manage the material for the next days during tomorrow free morning and went for a mug of some hot drink which she took in the staff room. From the window the evening outside seemed quite fair, and she guessed if Hatshee was on a recognition flight nearby. Nobody was there, so she placed her black woollen scarf on her shoulders as she thought that the loneliness would have been better spent on a walk through the park. 

She had to familiarize with that place, as long as with that part of herself that she had neglected for years. One of the regards, certainly the fundamental one, that she has set coming to Hogwarts: leaving her muggle lifestyle behind, embracing her roots, fully and shamelessly. Half-bloods hang between one world and the other, she thought. But in her case it was more an imbalance and she felt that. At the end of the day she believed that that was the cause for her whole life to be so... lacking. 

With her mug on her fingers, steaming in the fair crisp of the dusk, Evelyne moved outside the courtyard towards the trees. The last call of the morning birds mixed with the first call of the nocturnal ones. She knew which one she preferred. 

At the feet of the forbidden forest she breathed its smell. Venomous mushrooms, leaves' decay, ancient witchcraft... "Is this the type of place you were so fond of, dad? The one you chased?" She quietly spoke. The dark humidity in between creeping trunks and black oak leaves seemed to invite her inside to find the answer. 

Instead Evelyn reached for a part of the castle still in ruins. It had to be a courtyard, but just a few stones remained, already well integrated into the vegetation. She was mesmerized by it, a perfect reproduction of her romantic imagination coming to life. 

Lastily she noticed the presence of a man. Sitting on a low wall, leaning at a semi-destroyed column. Her heart skipped a beat: it was him, her mr Heatcliff. Blending perfectly in that sight like he was born with those ruins, a ruin himself. First she could noticed that he looked rather different from hours before, the devastating fury was gone, he was rather absorbed into the calm pit of nothingness. 

His feet-long jacket was unbuttoned at the top same for the collar of the shirt, inside, a silk dark scarf was loosened to fully reveal his neck. He sat lazily with one open leg down and one bent over the wall, showing the hips. One hand laying over the belly, the other, placed over his bent knee, held what it seemed a tobacco pipe with a long cane. 

Slowly he placed the cane in between his lips, covered the burner of the pipe with two fingers and sucked the smoke in, his cheeks hollow, then blew out at length abandoning his head towards the column. From time to time the other hand reached for the neck, gently touching a certain spot... 

Evelyne would have silently watched him for hours. But she was in the mood for an approach. After all she wasn't a shy 16 years old anymore, but a grown woman, even if still shy and possibly more awkward. And now that it was clear that the man Severus Snape was as much romantic as she was (otherwise she wouldn't have spot him there, in that pose, on drugs) she was eager to know him. 

One sip of her now cold tea and marching in! 

"My class on Monday and Thursday is after yours in the timetable." 

He barely moved his head in her direction. 

"Has to be because they are on the same corridor." She concluded in a friendly tone. 

"And...?" He said. 

She looked at him. 

"The students were a little overwhelmed this morning. It wasn't easy to get their attention on the topic." 

He blew out a long trail of smoke. "Not my concern". 

The smell was strong, sweet, heady... clearly not tobacco. She talked again. 

"I was wondering if maybe you can go a bit easier with them..." 

He frowned. 

"...at least on Monday and Thursday mornings!" She giggled at her own boldness. 

To her surprise he smirked. 

He's clearly intoxicated, she thought. 

"My father used to smoke the same pipe. Not the same... herb." 

"It would have been impossible." He stated. 

"Why?" 

"This is a mixture I created myself." 

"Oh." 

Lowering her gaze she glimpsed at his exposed crotch. She recalled its contact with her body, couldn't help it. The air seemed suddenly colder against her cheeks. 

"What type of herb does your father smoke?" 

Surprised for the question and happy to shift focus on something else, she didn't mind the answer. 

"He did. He left my mother when I was 10, then I've never seen him again." 

He continued to smoke quietly, just the sound of his breathing.

"But I think he smoked Yannighan leaves." 

"There's a bit of them inside my mixture. - And I guess your mother is a muggle, miss Price." 

"How do you guess it?" Why couldn't he call her by her name? 

"It's hard for a pure blood to come to teach about muggle world. They don't understand it, even if they try. Sometimes I wonder how wizards and muggles can get along each other." 

"They... so you are not a pure blood? I was convinced you were." 

"Why, pray tell." 

"Well..." she began, but she could sense the potential minefield and tried to ponder her words, "You looked like one, back in school. And you hang around pure bloods, the extremists..." 

"I was not the only half-blood to go for Voldemort." 

Evelyne froze. Did he just tell that as a "please do not step on the grass"? or was he just playing his darned character so well? Yes, she was sure he enjoyed to be that dramatic. 

She looked at him in silence while he breathed his last smoke, cleaned the pipe with a flap of his cloak then rose on his boots moving some steps forward. The dusk was now completely blue. 

"Why did you come here, miss Price?" 

Now in front of her, she could feel how strongly he smelled of his smoke and couldn't help to get a bit dizzy. 

"I like this place. The ruins." She murmured. 

He stared at her eyes for some seconds. Evelyne recalled the malicious glance of the teenage him, so different from him now. That light was gone. 

"Valerian root, a spoon, in infuse." He said finally. "For the intoxication." 

"Why?" 

"You are clearly sensitive to smoke. And this is strong. Your pupils are dilated." 

Then he started to walk towards the castle. 

"You'd do well to come inside, if you don't want to catch a cold." 

She was sure of one thing. The smoke had not affected her, no, her pupils were dilated for another reason.


	7. Where Mr Snape rides a horse as the storm approaches (then gets horny)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***smutty, because it's sunday***

Miss Evelyne Price, the young protegee of a countess, couldn't have seen her reputation sinking faster. For her bad habit to travel alone and with awful weather she was now the makeshift guest in the castle of mr Snape, a wild well-known irredeemable bachelor who lived far from civilised society. 

He had come to her rescue when the rain started to become heavy during a long hike in the moors. 

"It's coming a tempest and a strong one, ma'am. There, that castle is my home. I can carry you there." Of course she knew who he was, but seeing him for real she found him less menacing than he was described. "You can stay, but it's gonna be dangerous." 

A roaming thunder made her go for his proposal. Quick he lifted her from the ground onto the saddle and commanded a 'grab me' as he started to ride at a fast page. Evelyne didn't know if her head started to spin because of the movement of his hips rubbing against her body, or motion sickness, or an incoming cold, but for sure she never felt this excited in her life. She was past the age of knowing men, and went from 0 to 100 in one single shot. 

It didn't last for long. Once at the castle, the wind was blowing stronger and stronger and she felt lucky to be inside a whatever place. 

"Take her to some room and set the place warm at least, let's make sure she doesn't catch a cold." He ordered to one of his servant as he shook his cloak from the rain. 

She warmed herself up at the fireplace of a small room letting her long hair down to dry, she had to undress staying in her undergarments yet the servant brought her a couple of blankets and a woollen fine robe who was probably of her master. 

After an hour, when she just rested on the comfortable couch listening to the howling wind, she heard a knock at the door and he came in without ceremony. 

"Are you fine, miss...?" 

"Price. Yes, your rescue was providential." She replied pointing at the still rumbling storm outside. 

"Good." 

He stepped closer. Evelyne could see he wore a robe as well, over just his shirt, trousers and boots. His dark hair brushed on his neck and his eyes... were just lingering on her, almost greedy. And wasn't she looking at him the same way? 

"I don't think our meeting was a mere coincidence, miss Price." 

She blushed as he placed a finger under her chin. 

"I was wondering why your grip on the horse made me feel this way... and if you felt it as well." He said softly, capturing her in his fiery lustful glance. Her parted lips went dry and she swiftly licked them. 

"Like what?" She almost whispered. 

"Electricity." 

He couldn't wait any longer and bent over her to brush her lips with a sensual teasing kiss. Too fast. 

"Yes..." she invoked. And mr Snape accomplished. He pressed her body firmly against his as he kissed her now more and more frantically. His big hands found the way inside her robe to claim her bottom. 

"I know about electricity..." she talked eyes closed as he relentlessly kissed her slender neck and collarbone. "Franklin experiments permitted its study by Italian scientists Galvani and Volta..." 

His fingers were now fumbling with the laces of her shirt, but didnt touch her breasts, he just proceeded kissing down tasting her with his mouth while holding her close. Evelyne let out a tiny squeak of pleasure as she felt him nibbling softly, so softly, at her engorged nipples. He went on sucking and nibbling expertly as her eyes rolled back and breathing fastened. 

"But its first... common usage... came many years after... uuh..." 

He stopped and rose looking directly on her blissful eyes. 

"I don't like formalities, miss Price." And he meant it. "I want you to be mine right now." 

"Yes." She breathed. "Please." 

He lifted her from the bum as she enveloped him in between her legs, her womb twitched feeling him hard and ready. 

He unfastened his trousers and bent forward so his shaft leaned skin on skin with her exposed groin. The sensation was driving he crazy. 

"So I'm about to curse you, miss Price." He said tantalisingly at her ear and smirked, and she could have just come in that moment. 

"What?!" 

"I'm a wizard. And you a muggle apparently." 

He kissed at her jawline and instinctively move his hips against her crotch. 

"I'm not!.. I'm a witch..." She whined, desperately wanting him. His womb almost ached from heat. 

"Then you have to pass the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, miss Price. Answer: what is the potion to cure this curse?" 

She swung her hips against his hard limb to entice it to get inside of her. 

"Which curse?" She breathed aroused by that movement. 

"This one." 

"Sex??" 

"Oh, you know precisely what I'm talking about, miss Price..." he brushed his nose against the skin of her neck, still holding him back to penetrate her. "The 'Slavery curses', you secretly read about them many years ago..." 

And whispered. "In the restricted section..." 

She awoke, back in the black reality of her room. 

Gasping, sweaty, hot. Adrenaline still running through her body. 

It was so real. So beautifully real... the delusion struck hard, but if she closed her eyes she could still see him, feel him, his hands, his lips, his voice... 

She reached her groin with one hand and while a voice inside of her screamed that she shouldn't have thought of him that way, the other whispered that it would have just made her feel good and healthy. It was also a bit of time she didn't masturbate. 

She started to massage her sensitive swollen spot as she breathed out longly, relieved. Orgasm built up quickly, still sensing dream-Snape's strokes on her warm skin and his louscious erection. And there she was, panting, feeling that good, moaning softly as the waves of pleasures decreased after the peak. 

"If he's going to hunt my dreams this way..." 

It was ridiculous. But since that evening at the ruins - and one month had passed already, her mind continued to think of him: that they had a conversation, that he seemed to understand the issues of being a half-blood, that he cared for her not to catch a cold... And she also believed to catch his eyes on her a couple of time during dinners. However, it remained a single occasion. She never spotted him again at the ruins, 

Snape of her dreams had nothing to do with the real one. The real one jumped out directly from literature while in her dreams he was just some cheap romance male protagonist, she admitted, turning her nose to her own undignified imagination. He was a sad man, no doubt, but more than depressed he looked 'in pain'. Hence it was very hard to approach him. When she crossed him in the hallway he hardly greeted her, for he was busy to intimidate students with his dread look, giving detentions, and swearing. But today... 

"Today I have an excuse to talk to him Hatshee." Evelyne said as she looked at herself in the mirror trying to style her hair somehow. 

"Here. Do I look a little better with this thinner sweater and my hair down?" 

Over the armrest of the chair the sleepy little owl koo-kooed in agreement. 

"Nah, you're right, I'll put them up like always and put a cardigan on!" 

The little owl shut her eyes, as a 'whatever'. 

The excuse to talk was a question from her, well, dream, and after breakfast she searched for his office, as she knew that he had an office in the underground. 

She knocked at the door, a strange smell coming from the inside. 

No answer. She knocked again. 

"AWAY." it was so loud and sudden then she jumped. "I TOLD PEOPLE THAT I DON'T WANT TO BE DISTURBED HERE." 

"It's... Evelyne..." she had the courage to say "Price." 

A little noise accompanied by a couple of swears. The door opened and he just stood at the edge of it, leaned on the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. 

"What." He said, unwelcoming. 

He wore an apron, the sleeves of his gray shirt were rolled up to the elbows showing hairy forearms. For what she could peek inside he had turned his office into a laboratory. Giant distillers and alembics, big glass jars with glowing fluids, boiling couldrons, and the strong smell of potions. 

"You are working" said Evelyne awkwardly, "I didn't want to disturb..." 

"What do you want, professor Price?" He tried to sound a bit more polite. Maybe. 

"I have a question, about curses. Well. Do exist anything as 'Slavery curses' you might know about?" 

His reaction was indeed of much surprise as he rose his eyebrows high on his forehead, blinking a couple of times. However a second later his black eyes narrowed penetrating suspiciously into hers. 

"And why you ask this?" 

Evelyne tried not to feel embarrassed. "I was remembering something about it... but didn't know whether the name is correct, you know, maybe I just invented it..." during a hot steam dream about you, she thought staring at his adam's apple. 

"It exists." He lowered his voice. "You don't want to curse anybody with such a curse, professor Price, do you?" 

Evelyne giggled. "Absolutely not! I don't even know what it is about. And I don't want know eventually. Probably stumbled on it why making some research when I was a student... Just. About a potion, maybe. A potion that cures this curse..." 

"No." He said. "It's a spell, a reversal hex. Now, I've to come back to work." 

Evelyne nodded and left with a 'thank you'. 

"It's very improbable that you stumbled on this type of curses while making a research in the library..." he said finally at her back. "...at least if you weren't in the restricted section." 

That made her shake on her heels. She looked a final time to him and she could spot a little smirk on his lips and a certain shine on his eyes. What was he implying? 

Yes, she visited the restricted section every so often when she was a student. 

And he was there too. 

But in no way he could have seen her.


	8. Where professor I-talk-with-animals reveals her past to eager whiskers

Albus Dumbledore's varnish travelled back into his corner at the headminstress office just in time to see Minerva and a short man age 30 talking animously. 

"Professor Berry, I'm sincerely sorry. We are all in the same boat. Professor Snape's condition..." 

"Condition!" he interrupted, a sarcastic angry tone in his high pitch voice. "I think I've heard enough about his condition. The reason why everybody here excuses him..." 

"The reason why we tolerate him" cut shortly Mcgonagall, "is because he is recovering from a terrible injury that he got while protecting all of us... listen, Wulfric, I understand it. Things are going to be better. I ask you just to be patient for some time." 

"My patience is reaching the limits!" 

As he left, she leaned at her armchair, letting out a disapproving moan. "What a windbag!" 

A little laugh by Albus didn't help to ease her stress. 

"I think I have a dejavu all over again. How is it going with our plan, then?" He asked her. 

"Oh, remarkably!" She yelled, "Mr Piece of Coal and ms Insipid Soup couldn't be less enthusiastic of each other!" 

"You say? I had the impression on the contrary, that she was rather hung up on him." 

"Well, Albus, if you think I forgot about our bet, I didn't. It seems that I gave you a lot of vantage scheming their encounter, but I wanted just to set a starting point... I'm not going to interfere anymore." 

"Alas, it is your great interest that I win." Dumbledore rose an eyebrow at her scepticism. "Maybe we can know professor Price a bit more? I think she is hiding something from us. Better say, from the whole world." 

"Yes, yes..." Minerva was used to his abstruseness, however she rushed to write a polite message for Evelyne Price to come to the office for teatime. 

And when she did, she tried her best to make it look more like a friendly meeting than an interrogation. Or a trap. 

"You're doing great with your classes professor... may I call you Evelyne?" Minerva again grinned like something wrong was going on. 

"Of course!" Professor Price had the same lukewarm appearance as always, but her eyes glowed. "I must confess that I've been into muggles for so long in my life that teaching about them does not interest me very much, but I do care that my teaching is accurate and that students understand its importance." 

Mcgonagall was quite impressed by her sincerity. That woman was a strange combination of shyness and boldness apparently, something she hadn't found often in people. 

"It's being here what fills my days with wonder!" She proclaimed big-smiling as she completed her sentence. Minerva was instantly curious. 

"What do you mean? These old stones have such a power on you?" 

"Yes! You may not understand, I guess. And it's complicated to explain... why I've been denying my origins." 

She touched the hem of her skirt and slightly bit her lower lip. 

"That you are partly muggle?" Asked her counterpart. 

"That I am partly witch." 

Minerva lowered her voice. 

"Might I... Is it maybe related to your father disappearance?" 

"You know about my father disappearance! I guess it was on my paper application." 

"I didn't want to be inappropriate..." 

"Don't worry, headminstress. I don't mind to talk about my parents. My mother and my father didn't get along so well, it was the kind of unhappy marriage that drives people crazy. I couldn't understand it back then, I just saw two very sad persons. Mixed marriages can end up this way..." 

Minerva pursed her lips. "Any marriage I may say." 

Evelyne nodded. "Well. After having me my mother changed opinion about magic. Considerably. I was 10 when my father left, and very angry. My mother used to speak ill about him all the time and I believed her, I felt betrayed too. Till then I had no magical capabilities so she believed I was muggle. Then the letter came..." 

As she spoke Minerva attentively reconstructed the story in her mind, yet at that point she frowned, forseen the finale. 

"She hated you, as well?" 

Evelyne looked briefly at Dumbledore's portrait, where he was sleeping in his chair, before answering. 

"Sort of. Let's say she wasn't too enthusiastic of me being a witch. And consequently I wasn't too fond of myself." 

"I'm sorry. It must have been... difficult." 

Evelyne shrugged. 

"When I finished with Hogwarts we moved in Dublin, the city of my mother, and I frequented the University there. I think it was the best thing for me at that time, living a muggle life." 

"But now you're enjoying Hogwarts, you said." 

"It turned out that it wasn't the best thing, this is my conclusion at least. One year ago, after I... well... One year ago I started to reconnect with magic. And now I'm here, it has to be destiny!" 

Minerva passed her her cup of hot tea. 

"It has to be." 

They sipped their tea in silence as Mcgonagall was figuring out how to introduce the next topic. 

"And you never marry." She dropped absent-mindedly. 

Evelyne blushed a bit, but giggled. "That's precisely the point!" 

"Oh." Minerva tried to look surprised. "So when you said that it wasn't the best thing you meant your love life." 

Still the woman in front of her didn't look embarrassed. 

"Better." She smiled. "My love life has been disastrous!" 

This should have explained quite a lot about the 'insipid soup', yet the headmistress felt like she was missing something. 

"This tea is a rarity!" Evelyne exclaimed. "Orange flowers... cherry... oolong..." 

"It's my mixture! And it's secret. No way you can guess all the ingredients. " 

"Every wizards has a secret mixture of something then!" 

Minerva looked at her interrogatively. 

"I was speaking about professor Snape." The other tweeted. "Some weeks ago I caught him smoking the pipe, and he told me it was 'his mixture'". 

Happy that the Snape-topic was finally out, Mcgonagall sipped her tea with a bit of a 'bingo' expression on her dignified face. 

"He didn't tell you what it is, did he? It's a sedative. For pain relief." 

Evelyne then looked quite concerned, but remained silent, visibly minding on her own. 

"It's ok if you don't like him, dear. He has a hard time making himself likeable." 

"Oh no. On the contrary! He was...  
nice with me. Actually... I have a confession, headminstress." 

Headminstress looked like her whiskers had smelled treats. 

"I'll be silent like a tomb." 

Evelyne exhaled and shook her head. "I had a crush on him when I was a girl. A big one. But he was too far from me, even if we were in the same dorm." 

"Really! Oh my. That is unprecedented! I remember about him back then. A lanky lonely boy. Did you like him for some particular reason?" 

"He always attracted me." She blushed, her eyes starting to spark. "Maybe it's that dark hero aura which makes him that romantic..." 

Minerva had difficulty to keep her cup on balance as she wondered whether she was telling bullshits or not. Romantic. Snape. She wanted to check on Dumbledore, surely pretending to be asleep or just suffocating for suppressing laughs. But how could he guess that this woman was in love with Severus? 

"And what about now? Maybe you were distant then, but now I think there's no restriction. He spent alone all of his life, but the war has put an end to an... unresolved chapter, it's time for him to start over! And here you are." 

A jingle of ceramics, and Evelyne shivered. She gasped and flushed so hard that Minerva thought she was having a paroxysm. 

"M-me and Severus??" 

Oh, you still have the hots for him, baby. 

"Why not?" 

"B-but we are colleagues." 

"I absolutely don't mind. Tell you more. I encourage it." 

"I... don't know how it can happen... it's hard to approach him anyway... and it's not that he tried to do it with me till now." 

"It's probably too timid to ask anybody out. Why don't you propose him something? Just so you start to know each others, familiarize a bit. From one thing to another..." From one beer to another, then straight to the hips activity. 

The young woman was making her best to keep a still composure. 

"I can try. Do you think he would appreciate, headminstress?" 

"Sure! I think he's eager for some company after all. And you two seems to have a lot in common. Oh, by the way, just call me Minerva..." Minerva didn't like to be called 'Minerva' by the staff, but it was necessary to justify the intimate conversation. She pretended to be friendly, and was surprised by her own political skills. 

Once she dismissed her, she finally came back to her usual sharp look. 

"ALBUS." She still gave him her back. 

"I think you should take out the carol's repertoire, Minerva, because for Christmas there's gonna be a bag pipe concert."


	9. Where an Italian libertine of the xviii century created sex curses

The restricted section of the library didn't have an easy access, Evelyne remembered well. Consultation of its books required a special permission to give to the librarian, she of course still hadn't one, but the current librarian, a very old woman, gazed at her doubtfully. 

"You are a teacher." 

"Yes." Nodded Evelyne. 

"Then you need no permission to consult the restricted section. How could it be otherwise!" 

Vantages of being a teacher! Triumphant, Evelyne climbed the small ladder to the uplifted floor; as she entered the section, light seemed to automatically fade and the smell of old materials to intensify. Wandering by those tomes could have terrorized any witch, especially the prude always-do-right ones, who she was not though she could have passed for. On the contrary it gave her a familiar feeling and sooner than she predicted she found herself completely at ease with her research. 

Which naturally was about curses. 

She had to check what that dream was about, and since her memory didn't help she hoped she could be so lucky to find the same book. First Evelyne decided to consult a curses catalogue. 

Basically a cookbook, but instead of lasagne and rotisseries, curses for any occasion and need, horrid, blasphemous, unjust. Curses to make the earth putrid. Curses to reverse the inner body organs upside down. Curse your whole family at the Christmas party. Curse someone to run till death. Curse instruments. Curse animals. Curse houses. And there it was: Slavery Curses. Evelyne eyes widened as she read the entry of the topic. Something cracked inside of her. 

"Sexual & Erotic Witchcraft." 

Jeez. Why on earth she searched for that as a teenager? Was it the effect that hormones had on her? An ugly horny youngster so desperate to go for dark magic? Suddenly her belly twitched as a violent embarrassment hit her on face. She told Severus about it. She told him that she 'stumbled' on Slavery Curses while a student. And of course he knew what she was talking about while she had no clue, that was the reason why he smirked at her that way. Also why he looked so shocked at first, then suspicious. 

"Now he must think that I'm some sort of pervert." She hopelessly thought, "Shit, Evelyne, you've always been awful. But at least you are safe if you keep your flaws to yourself. If you hide. Like you've always done. This was utterly stupid!" 

And she felt so ashamed than some tear burned on her eyelashes. 

The research wasn't done yet, a huge book about Sexual & Erotic Witchcraft was found and Evelyne finally read what this infamous curse was about. 

"Slavery Curses (not to confound with Servant Curses) make the subject of the curse your sexual slave. As such they have to perform in any sexual activity the curser command: any instruction the curser give the cursed accomplishes. The interaction though is not consensual, so the cursed can scream, cry, lament during it, which many find enticing..." 

A terrible form of abuse, Evelyne thought, feeling the sting of guilt just for reading. 

"...The Marchese Filodemono Pazzi di Canossa, and Italian wizard who is said to have had sex with a different partner for each day of his life, perfectioned the original curses during the xviii century." 

A picture of the Marchese at the margin made her cringe. He was a handsome looking man with long weavy hair tighten in a tail, but his full lips where strangely black. Evelyne looked away. 

"The combination of the curse with Amortensia ensure that any sexual performance is consensual." 

Enough. She closed the book in front of her, but as she did she recalled about herself... not doing it. 

20 years before she has been there with the same book, simple curiosity. The same curiosity that moved her to dive into the restricted section and she knew that at its core there was his father. She was there, as she saw 18 years old Severus climbing the stairs. He looked surprised to find a lonely opened book on the consultation table and reached for it. As he read, with one hand over his mouth and the other carefully turning the pages his expressive eyes displayed many emotions, he frowned, he rose the eyebrows, he seemed even a bit amused. He went on reading almost the whole book when closure time came and he had to leave, putting the book back in the shelf. 

She watched him as he did. 

She was at his side all the time. 

Invisible.


	10. Where Evelyne gets moony and ends up singing the Beatles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***"Ah, look at all the lonely people"***

As marked in her calendar that day, 6th of October, was full moon, and full moon meant troubles. Hatshepsut knew that her master had an odd sensitivity to the moon cycle, and on full moon especially she could become a little crazy. Nothing very bad ever happened when Evelyne lived among the muggles, but now she was in the magic world and the consequences could have been unpredictable. 

Or she could have profited from them! Evelyne hadn't found the courage to ask Severus out. She believed that she would have never found it after the Slavery Course incident, even if a part of her was convinced, because of that significant smirk, that he didn't mind. Or that he was possibly enticed by her little secret, even! And that thought was precisely the kind of craziness operated by the moon. 

At the end of her classes, which went a bit off rail for the amount of adrenaline in her body, she resolved for captivity to avoid any more issues and she was going back to her room when her pointy nose captured a particular sensual scent of bourbon, sandalwood, moist herbs... That made her insane. 

Like a hungry animal she followed the smell till its source, outside in the backyard. The pouring rain increased the intensity of the fragrance as she saw Severus smoking its pipe under the roof, solemn, still and lonely. There were no students around, which was not surprising. Evelyne approached him, a feel of wonder pulsing in her veins, dazing her mind. She wanted it to happen for fucking 20 years! 

"There's no Lily now." her mind said, without a hint of guilt, "No beautiful red-head mermaids to come before you." How wrong was possibly that thought she didn't care. For they were both lonely, with frustrating, awful love experiences, they had to be a match? She recalled for a moment all her painful heartbreaks and trembled in her core, a feral fear to hold her back, a moony hope to make her go. 

"Hello Severus!" 

He lazily gazed at her, then back to watch the rain. 

"Price." 

"It's nice here..." 

She was still in time to run away, and maybe prepare a better outfit for the next attempt. Something cuter. Maybe even sexy, then possibly drug herself so not to feel ridiculous. Why her mother voice was now a siren in her head? "How flat you look with that top Evelyne, if you've nothing to display you'll better cover yourself. Men are all the same, unfaithful like your father, they don't go for girl like you..." 

Again fear, her legs shook as she wasn't running for safety, her throat closed and heartbeats sped up. All your life went in this way, spoke the moony voice, all your life... 

"I was wondering." She started, thrilling at the strange sound of her own voice "could it be... you would like..." 

Severus looked at her after a long exhale of smoke. At her hesitancy he rose his eyebrows interrogatively. 

She smiled, tensing the muscles of her thin neck. 

"Would you like to go to  
Hogsmeade one of these days? I mean... drink... something... together." 

God. She was about to faint. 

Snape, a statue, looked away. 

"Why you come with this proposal?" He asked. 

"Well." She felt the bitter taste of gastric reflux in her lower tongue, but she tried to sound the sweetest possible with her voice. Being gentle is the key of success, they say. "Our conversation last month was nice, and I'd love to speak again with you. We seem we have a lot in common. It is though a friendly invitation... As colleagues!" 

When he again turned to face her his expression was clearly irritated. 

"No, if I can help it." He said. 

Evelyne was still smiling. 

"Oh... I... uhm..." she stuttered, panic surging in her limbs. 

Professor Snape was now staring at her in his usual way, the cane of the pipe in his lips, almost munching at it, more annoyed than ever. 

"Did I give you the impression that I was interested in something like that? I don't think so. Professor Price, I'm the least man to engage in such activities, first I'm not interested in them, second I'm not interested in knowing people in general, third... didn't I make it clear that I don't remember about you? Wouldn't I say something different if I was slightly interested? But you foolishly came here anyway to ask me out. And I think the message now is enough clear." 

You are not into me, completed Evelyne's scarred heart. Understood. 

"You are right. I was just foolish..." she mumbled, keeping her tears in place. "I knew that this was the answer anyway." 

He dared to speak again. 

"Why?" 

Strange question from someone who just pointed everything out so matter-of-factly. 

"Cause it already happened." 

More than once. But not with him. 

As she walked away she almost stepped on someone's cat, then proceeded straight for her room. Of course it had to go this way, didn't she learn the hard lesson already? And how pathetic she was, nourishing that crazy love dream about him? Completely mesmerized by his new life she lowered her defenses to the power of delusions... 

Hatshee shook her wings alarmed as Evelyne had entered, pale, shaking from head to toe. Here we go again with the full moon tantrums, she thought. 

"It's nothing. Nothing. It'll pass..." 

Yet the little howl flew on the top of her knee as she collapsed on the ground. 

"I'd just want to know what I am doing wrong." Her master murmured, tears pouring on her cheeks. "Why can't I...? For once...? Why it's so unreachable for me...?" 

Hatshee kooed smoothly as she pressed her head against her arm. "Oh Hatshee..." And the room was then filled by her violent cry. 

It was way passed dinner when she lifted her head from bed, still depressed and bitter. She sat holding her legs to her chest, a mass of hair down to her back. 

"Hatsh. I was so stupid. At my age. Coming here feeling like little Red Riding Hood when I am a miserable Eleanor Rigby. Crushing for the first single man like I had any chance ever." 

Hatshee tilted her head as she heard her singing softly. 

"Picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been  
Lives in a dream..." 

She flew at the bay window, staring as the rising moon casting its mystic glow over the trees. 

"...All the lonely people  
Where do they all belong?" 

The little owl started to peck to the glass so furiously than Evelyne had to check on her. 

"There's plenty of mice out there isn't it?" She sighed as she opened the window. But the owl then behaved strangely, flying inside and outside, kooing and purring. She was calling her. 

"Do you want I come with you in the forest now?" Evelyne asked perplexed. The bird looked so excited to show her something, so at the end she convinced her. 

She left Hogwarts behind as she reached for Hatshee at the feet of the forest. It was past 11 and over her head the moon was a big luminous circle, the air calm and cool, just the soothing kooing of the owls. 

Where do they all belong? Said the refrain. 

Where do I belong... She asked, looking at the dense wood. 

Father. 

"The oaks Eve, they are our true home. You may not understand it now, but one day I'm sure you will. You are my copy after all, baby..." 

She felt the need to cry again as she recalled about him, a young nice looking man with a thick black beard and warm dark brown eyes. She was his copy in features but her eyes were grey-blue like "the color of the universe as it reflects the light of the ocean", he used to say. He believed she had magical power although she didn't display any, and left her before knowing that she was effectively a witch. Maybe he wouldn't have done if he knew she was. Maybe he would have took her with him. A sudden gasp and she felt her eyes burning with tears again, her heart swollen in sorrow. 

"I don't think I can come there Hatsh. It's too painful..." 

Then at that moment Hatshepsut, hidden in the branches started a tantrum call like no precedent. So strong it was, and persistent, that all the owls in the vicinity followed her, crying and screaming, a bleak yet powerful ensemble. They stopped as a white giant flying monster approached the passage in between the oaks. Evelyne stepped back as she shivered in terror and amazement watching a big white barn owl, the biggest she had ever seen, staring at her with its mysterious shiny pupils. Evelyne felt she had no options but to come after "her protector" inside the forest and as she walked in she felt as though "they" welcome her.  
Her fears faded as long as her insecurities, her scars, everything she knew or she believed she knew about herself she left outside that sacred space. My home, she thought as she breathed in the familiar scent of musk and leaves decay. 

The barn owl had flown in a glowing glade and as she followed it she had to blink a couple of time to adjust her sight to that brightness. In front of her was a thick meadow of white tulips, illumineted by the disk of the moon. Surrounded by that miraculous beauty she felt an irrepressible wild surge to undress herself. She knew what was happening. 

Hatshee kooed in approval still hidden somewhere. Don't be scared, she seemed to say. The last time she did it was before she oblivierated herself... oh yes, before her graduation at Hogwarts. The oblivion spell erased a part of her school memory, a necessity to start all over in Dublins faculty, Yet it didn't change what she was, a witch, nor it worked properly: her memory returned progressively in her dreams or nightmares. And in those nightmares, she could't see her hands, her feet. She was void, horribly void, but powerful! 

However the moon commanded her to change. And Evelyne, bowing to her master, obeyed. She undressed till she was completely naked, cold air stiffening her limbs. She rose up the arms to the astral globe watching as her hands crossed its light. It was frightful, but it was what her feral core needed. It was her magic. 

Her eyes stared at the point where just a moment before there were her hands, now all she could see were just the moon's seas.   
She didn't feel cold anymore. Nor heartbroken. 

She had just vanished.


	11. Where something really strange is going on in Snape's room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***explanations then lots of smuts my dears***

A lot of memories were then unveiled since Evelyne decided to walk back to the castle in her invisible form. Thus she recognized that her senses didn't perceive the world so differently from her normal form, the main difference was a smoother sensitivity to warmth and coldness, and that she didn't need glasses. She felt lighter although it could have been just psychological: being invisible gives a phenomenal sense of freedom, she thought. 

The first time it happened, as Evelyne recalled pacing slowly in the hallways of Hogwarts, she didn't need ceremonies into the woods. She just wanted it. Slytherin was hell if you were a shy unattractive half-blood vexed by a jealous mother who constantly threw stones at your self esteem. Her peers were all beautiful, chic, rich and confident. All but Severus, of course, he at least seemed to be an I-just-want-to-disappear boy as well. 

Anyway at a point she desired so much to disappear than one morning she woke up and she was no more. At first it was scary, but when she understood that she could control her transformation she gained more and more confidence: a superhero in a school of wizardry! Now, Evelyne had also spent time to research about her condition, and, abusing the restricted section in her ghostly form, she discovered that it was an hereditary mark of dark magic which revolved around an ancient sept of druids. That was a huge turning point. Not only she was a weirdo bland little witch, but also a Dark Arts practitioner. What would have the wizardry community done to her if they knew - with all the Voldemort chaos going on. And how immensely powerful is invisibility. How much someone can crave such a power... 

No wonder she oblivierated herself. All the fears her mother insinuated in her mind went confirmed: she was all wrong, a whim of nature, a big mistake. And too young, scared and lonely to cope with all that. 

As she was minding about her past she heard someone stepping fastly in her direction. Her first physical encounter in that stroll. Evelyne knew that she just had to stay still and watch the poor fellow as they skipped her presence. It amused her. Yet she gasped as she saw that it was Severus Snape. 

"I'm naked!" her mind screamed and she rushly run to hide behind an armor, consequently feeling a bloody idiot: of course Severus hadn't sawn her! But he heard her, the little movement she did produced a sound, though almost imperceptible. He stopped and looked around, then proceeded down the hall. 

And she followed him. The thrill of being more powerful than the one man who just dumped her was too tantalising. He was eventually going back to his room after patrol, as he walked corridors after corridors to the north wing of the castle, looking tired and bored. 

He unlocked his door as Evelyne stood at his side, just as she was that day in the library. 

Stepping inside he left the door opened for a moment. Enough for Evelyne to sneak in. Abuse of her power already... Whatever! She was still mad at him for that unfriendly "NO". She had had enough of that soup. Spent all her life feeling vulnerable with men, now she wanted to see a man vulnerable. What consequence a little break-in may have. 

His room was not very different from hers in terms of furniture and dimension, yet it was completely covered by books and jars, and it smelled of his smoke. First thing Severus did was lighting the fireplace without his wand then he undid his cloak and coat, remaining with shirt and doublet. Grunting he unfastened the collar as it visibly caused him discomfort. Under it there was the silky scarf. He pulled at the scarf to loosen it even more until his neck was completely exposed. 

"Fuck!" He mumbled, as he massaged at the side of it. The light of the fire illuminated his lean muscles and Evelyne saw it for the first time: a massive, hideously looking scar creeping down his chest and shoulder. It had to be painful for he panted and groaned as he reached for a bottle of wine and gobbled it. Then he took his pipe from his coat, pushed a pinch of 'his mixture' inside the burner and lighted it, finally collapsing on his armchair. 

She wanted to take a better look to that scar. How did it happen? Carefully she moved closer to him, leaning forward as he continued to suck the smoke from his pipe, his eyelids closed. She was sure that the scar needed some healing balm. Why didn't he apply some balm to it if he was so skilled in potions? 

She thought that he was finally asleep so she could move away from his place, as he suddenly stood up and, almost staggering, went to the bathroom. She heard the noise of the shower and again his lamentations, as eventually warm water poured on the sensitive skin of his injury caused pain. 

What was she doing there? As much as she was starting to feel empathetic in regard to Snape and his physical conditions, she was also feeling more and more uncomfortable and sinful. Quickly she grabbed the doorknob to sneak finally out, however Severus got out of the bathroom in that precise moment. Her heart skipped a beat: he would have seen the door opening by itself. But as she turned to face him she almost squealed. He was completely naked. 

The effect of it was exponential as she too was naked, although invisible. She stared, paralyzed, unable to look away: vulnerable she wanted him to be, and there he was! Her chest and cheeks warmed up as she shamelessly inspected his pure being. He was lean yet muscular, broad, elongated, hairy chest, abdomen, groin.. and 'that one' was proportionate with the rest of his body, flowing with the movements of his owner. 

What if she turned back to normal if she blushed too hard? Evelyne was about to have a panic attack: dizziness from the smoke concentration, excitement and now arousal made her crave for some fresh clean air. But she forcibly controlled herself, knowing that in some minutes she'd be free at last. 

She watched him as he laid face-up in his bed, still naked, just a thin silky sheet to cover his body, and after a long long while Evelyne moved closer to check if he was sleeping. But seeing him laying down naked as she stood up brought vulnerability to a whole new dimension. 

Evelyne gazed at his body, down to the point where the thin fabric made a bulge. His cock was visibly leaning up towards his belly. Before she could mind herself she sweeply climbed the bed, positioning in between the angle of his opened legs. She pulled at the sheet with extenuating length just for his body not to feel immediately uncovered. And stopped right in the middle of his tights. She just wanted to look at him. No matter how much a violation of privacy and intimacy it was. "I'm not the woman you said NO to" she whispered like a protective spell. "I'm not that woman anymore." 

As the sheet slided on his intimate part she couldn't miss the slight twitch it did. Goodness, was he awake? She couldn't tell. His eyes were closed, but he was on drugs, maybe half conscious. And if it twitched for so few, it meant that he was... somehow feeling it. 

Evelyne enclosed her face to his fleshy shaft, which looked precisely as she had imagined it that day in the laboratory: velvety, supple, maybe a bit bigger. She blew warm breath on it and watched as it twitched again. She went on blowing on his whole length surprised at his response, as it twitched more vigorously. Was he possibly that receptive? Just a little stimulus to make it grow... 

Suddenly Severus breathing deepened as he adjusted his body rotating his hips up, an instinctive reaction. His hand reached down and gently stroked his penis then came back lifelessly to his side. 

"You can imagine that I am whoever you want." thought Evelyne watching his frowning eyebrows. "Now..." 

She started gently, brushing slowly his lips on his soft skin. Her heartbeats accelerated as she realized that it was quickly stiffening. Kissing it gently at first then more and more passionately as his whole body started to quiver under her. He moaned as she approached the swollen tip, biting his lower lip in anticipation and lust, and Evelyne watched him in awe, melting in her lower abdomen, feeling as though nothing in the world could hold her back. As he rose up his teased eager body once more she swallowed his tip. Severus rocked his head back, strongly exhaling by his parted lips. Pure sexual joy waved in her as she felt him so aroused, pumping, licking, sucking him, completely dedicated to his pleasure. She didn't know if it was because of his intoxication that he was so frantic, so astonishingly wild, he didn't act cool like any grown man, on the contrary he looked like a youngster enjoying his first time. Severus squirmed, grunted and even whined as she worked steadily on his cock, till the point she felt it throbbing against her tongue. 

"Ahh... wait!" He almost screamed, laboured breath shaking his belly. But as she slowed down her pace, sliding lusciously her mouth all the way up and down, he suddnely licked his lips in ecstasy and stretched his arms and fingers to touch her head. His first shot hit her soft palate. 

This simple contact, his gentle firm grip, caused emotions she couldn't predict to explode in her, she came as well, for nothing but just her enamored longing spirit, fulfilled by that exquisite moment of sex like she never had in a very long time. Maybe never at all. She needed to breath and she let him go, gasping as she watched him spurting his load on his own belly, lusting at his orgasmic moans. She caused him to feel that good... 

Severus smiled, laughed even, in the bliss of the moment, yet the strong orgasm had awakened him from drowsiness and he was now trying to figure out what had just happened. Evelyne's right hand was still pumping gently at its base to squeeze out the last drops, and her left was cupping his now relaxed scrotum. 

"What is that...?!" He murmured, lifting his head to better look. And he saw nothing, but he felt it. 

"What the bloody hell is that...?!" He repeated, dismayed. 

Evelyne moved, but not quickly enough as his hand found her invisible wrist and pulled strongly back to him. She gulped as the other hand landed directly on her arm and then chest, where he found her bare breast. 

"I've messed up!! I've messed up!!" She thought in panic. 

Severus eyes stared at his bedsheets whilst his touch squeezed her small soft mound, and what a grip! She could see by his look that he was utterly confused and this was turning him from euphoria to rage. 

"Who are you?? What is this magic??" 

She wanted to scream. 

"Revelio!" He muttered. 

No charm could have revealed her to him, fortunately. But this only meant dark magic, and she could anticipate his thoughts.  
She wriggled out forcibly, fighting to free herself and run. Severus reached for his wand on the bed side table. "REVELIO!" he shouted again. Then he froze. His dark pupils moving frantically to scan the void. "It must be..." 

He stepped back on his bed, a hint of terror on his face, as he pointed his wand following the noise of the invisible creature. 

"ABOMINATUS! REIECTUS! I KNOW YOU ARE HERE! REVEAL TO ME!" 

His exorcism had again no result. He thought she was a demon, Evelyne realized tears now pouring on her cheeks: he was right... 

"GO AWAY!" he finally yelled jumping on his feet. 

Then he just saw the door of his room opening and closing by itself.


End file.
